


I Feel You

by evilwriter37



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hallucinations, Non-Consensual Touching, Whump, dagur!whump, rape mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23341096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Sleuther gets spooked and stings Dagur with one of his tails.
Relationships: Dagur the Deranged/Mala
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	I Feel You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalessinsdaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalessinsdaughter/gifts).



Dagur was able to make it into the house before the hallucinations started. He called to Mala, wavered on his feet, grabbed at the nearest table. He was feeling woozy, unbalanced. Mala rushed into the room, a look of concern growing on her face when she saw the blood on his right forearm.

“Dagur, what happened?” She came over to him, put herself under one of his arms, and took him to go sit down. 

“Sleuther got spooked by the thunder,” Dagur answered. “And his tails came out.” He gestured to his arm. “Never scare a Triple Stryke.”

A look of horror passed over Mala’s face. They all knew the potency of the venom in a Triple Stryke’s tails. “Which one did he get you with?”

“Second one,” Dagur told her. He put a hand to his head. “Not feeling so good.” The middle tail caused terrible, nightmarish hallucinations. He figured that was better than the third tail, which produced horrible burning sensations like one was set aflame. He would have preferred not to have been stung though.

“What can I do?” Mala asked.

“Don’t know.” Dagur looked to her, and then his eyes went wide. Behind her was a man he’d been imprisoned with, the first man that had ever touched him in ways and places he didn’t want to be touched. He looked over her, and there was a terrible smile on his face through his scraggly dark beard. Thunder boomed outside.

“Stay away from me!” Dagur stood though his legs were weak, backed up against the wall. The man went around Mala, advanced on him. “No, no! Stay away!” Dagur threw a punch, but it went right through him.

“Dagur!” Mala called, rushing to him. She took his face in her hands. “This is just the venom.”

The man touched Dagur, and Dagur could feel it. His hand was really on his shoulder. Dagur was breathing hard, eyes wide with panic, heart pounding against his ribs to try to escape his frightened and doomed body. This man was going to… He was here to…

The man’s hand trailed over his chest, lower.

“Don’t touch me!” Dagur cried. He tried backing up further, but the wall was at his back. He wished he could sink into it. “Don’t touch me,  _ don’t touch me! _ ”

“Dagur, look at me,” Mala said urgently. 

Dagur did, but the man was still in his peripheral vision, still caressing him through his clothes. 

“Mala, he’s gonna- he’s gonna-” He couldn’t finish. His throat clogged up. Tears fell hot from his eyes. 

“Sh, you’re safe,” Mala told him, caressing his face. “You’re safe. This is just the venom.”

Right. The venom. How had he forgotten about that so quickly? Dagur looked to her instead of the man, met her eyes. A small whimper came out of him as the man caressed his thigh. It was the work of the venom, but he could  _ feel  _ him  _ touching  _ him. He tried to take deep breaths, but they came out panicked, harsh, too quick. 

“Mala. H-he’s…” He had to swallow and start again. His tears wet his wife’s fingers. “I-I can feel him touching me.”

“Just focus on me. Focus on me and you’ll be okay.”

Dagur tried his hardest. He really did. That was, until the hallucination’s hand went between his legs. He gave a violent cry, pulled away from Mala and the wall, rushed to the other side of the room. He crumpled to the floor, pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. He looked, and now there were too men standing by Mala, the other one having touched him as well. 

“Go away!” Dagur shouted. Maybe if he yelled at them, they would listen. But they didn’t. He lowered his head, buried the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Go away, go away, go away.”

He became panicked, breathing too quickly, heart thumping wildly, but he could do nothing but sit there. Fighting had proven useless, and yelling had as well. He just had to take it. 

But no, he didn’t want to. He  _ couldn’t.  _ They were going to… They were going to rape him.

“ _ Mala _ ,” Dagur groaned desperately. She came over to him, as did the men, and there were three of them this time. Mala wasn’t the only one who laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“Dagur, you’ll get through this. Just remember it’s not real.”

“It feels real!” Dagur sobbed. He looked up, at the men surrounding him. There were countless now, all with horrifying expressions on their faces, all ready to hurt him, all touching him through his wife’s body, arms reaching through her chest, her head. It was a horror to behold. 

“ _ No! _ ” Dagur screamed. And he kept screaming, didn’t stop. He didn’t care if anyone heard him. He was too lost to care. He curled in on himself, rolled onto his side, trying to protect as much of his body as he could. Damn, he wished he was wearing his armor. But it wouldn’t have done anything. It was like he could feel their touches  _ through  _ his clothes. He cried and didn’t stop.

Dagur didn’t know how long this went on for. Mala just sat and caressed his face as he cried and sobbed and screamed. He’d only been brought to his knees like this a few times in his life, and by the very men he was seeing now, the very men who were touching him. There were so many that he lost count, all wanting to hurt him. And they would. They surely would. 

Dagur slowly came back to himself. He was on the floor of his house, tears drying on his face, snot running from his nose. There was a familiar hand on his face: Mala’s. He opened his eyes and looked around. He’d been able to close his eyes, but he couldn’t cut out the voices, the voices saying that he was their little bitch, that they were going to hurt him like they never had before, that they were going to make him pay. The men were gone.

“Wh-what time is it?” Dagur asked. He’d come into his house in the late afternoon, the thunderstorm obscuring the sun. 

“Night,” Mala answered. “It went on for hours.” She stroked a hand through Dagur’s hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got trampled by a herd of Gronckles.” Dagur sat up, cleared his throat, wiped at his face. He felt gross and spent. His voice was hoarse from screaming, his throat pinpricked with little needles. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Mala was being attentive to his needs, and it would have made Dagur smile had he not been feeling so awful. 

“Just thirsty,” Dagur said. “I’ll… eat tomorrow.”

Mala left and returned with a tankard of water, kneeling down to give it to him. She didn’t make him get up off the floor, which he was grateful for. 

“I have to clean and bandage your arm,” she told him. “I’ll be right back.” 

She left again, and Dagur feared that the men would return while she was gone. They thankfully didn’t, but it was like he could see the shadows of them in the corners of his eyes. Fear clogged up his throat, and he nearly called for Mala, but when he opened his mouth, nothing would come out.

Though, she returned without his calling her. She sat on the floor with him, and held out his arm to her. She cleaned it with a cloth drenched in alcohol, making it sting. Dagur winced, but let her do it. He’d faced worse pain. He just had. 

“Are you angry with Sleuther?” she asked.

Dagur shook his head. “He was frightened. He couldn’t help it. He was just trying to defend himself.” The old him would have been absolutely furious at a dragon for hurting him so, but now, he knew it was just how dragons were. Sleuther was especially skittish.

Mala nodded, still working on his arm. She wrapped a bandage around it, tied it tight. Dagur drank his water.

“Let me help you up to bed,” Mala said as Dagur finished his water. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Ugh, you could say that again.” Mala helped Dagur stand on shaky legs, and she carefully led him through the house, taking him upstairs to their large and lavish bedroom. Once there, Dagur didn’t want to undress for bed. He thought all too much of how he had felt those men touching him through his clothes like they hadn’t even been there. No, he wouldn’t undress or change. What he was wearing was fine. 

Mala, luckily, didn’t make him change, understanding without words that he didn’t want to. She got him into bed, even tucked him in. Then she pulled off her clothing and came into bed with him, holding him close. He buried his head against her warm chest, liking the comfort of her body against his own. 

Mala didn’t say anything, just stroked his hair, and that made Dagur feel comforted. Aching, hurting on the inside, Dagur drifted off to sleep in Mala’s protective arms.


End file.
